escaping the frame: Book One

March 7, 2006

One More Week? [writing Egypt]

Horris art by JRH I thought I should drop in here and let you know I am not dead. No, not dead at all. Just working like a madman. I am hoping that this extension I asked my editor for was the last one I'll need. I think it is. It will still be tight, but it is, at least, possible to finish within a week's time. I have most of the book done by now. Reaching the home stretch. But then, I must go through again and do a second pass before I give it to my editor.

Horris art by JRH Lately, I've been thinking more and more about the first novel in the (fiction) Horris series, Horris, Little Eli, and the Secret Vision. The trek through writing those 300 pages was certainly a deep and involved one. I'm beginning to feel my mind want to move in the direction of beginning the second draft. I have a lot of ideas for making it tighter, making it work better. Ideas begin working on you. They have their own schedule, and definition of "attention."

Major flaws have been identified, and I feel I know just what to do in numerous instances to improve each and every one. I look forward to beginning that. But don't get me wrong. I have a lot of art to do for Horris' SCARY History of Egypt first. And then I'd like to not do any book stuff for a day or three. I hope, at that point, I will have my manuscript back from my editor so I can lunge into the second official pass of the novel.

Now, to update another blog or two, and then to get back on the book. It's still pretty early.

joaquín ramón herrera writes for children, adults, and other humans found elsewhere in the continuum of development. He is also an illustrator, musician, and surprise protagonist. If you have found his glasses, wallet, or keys, please contact him here.

(neuralpermalink established at 04:09)

December 28, 2005

Illustrationing, Gently Down the Stream

I've been drawing Eli, Horris, Nini, and Iago. Trying to figure out exactly how I want them to look. The picture posted in the last post is not Eli's final look. In fact, I hope it doesn't prove to frustrating to watch me try out different looks. Perhaps I should just wait until I am done and have him figured out. But I'm pretty close.

I am going to develop this sketch of Horris comforting Eli, perhaps for the T.O.C., or some other place in the book (screened back behind the Acknowledgements area?) I like it, although I'm not sure it would fit for any of the chapter illustrations.

Anyway, I'm beginning to think in terms of the first illustration. That is, the illustration for the opening of chapter one.

Just as I wrote that, I realized that I think I know what it has to be. Of course, I can't rightly tell you, here. But I think I know what it will be. And that's good, it will give me a chance to develop Iago more. I drew up a few sketches of him, but his cheekbones need to be sharper.

I guess I should start sketching out Leevo, Mister Zee, and Melody. But I think the reason I haven't is that they come into the book later on, so they don't feel as present yet. Once I draw a few chapters worth of illos, I'm sure they will emerge, and make themselves known. I think they will both be very fun to draw. I have a good picture of Mister Zee in my mind. But Melody needs more thinking.

One illo per chapter? Hmmm. What are there, 28 chapters? Yeah. I'll be busy for a while. I have to do some research and writing on the next non-fiction book, too. I'll have to take a trip to the library soon.

December 22, 2005

Done with First Edit of Horris, Little Eli, and the Secret Vision

Done! The book stands now at 310 pages. I think it's safe to say it will lose a fair amount, although it will be interesting to see it shrink down to 170 pages! I guess that's about how small it would have to get to accommodate frontmatter and backmatter and all the illustrations. Perhaps it will jump up a signature or something. I don't know. But my editor did tell me to write long. So I wrote long. Or, actually, I wrote until the story came to where I had decided I would end it.

I have no idea how it will go. But to tell you the truth, I look forward to the next stage. And I had to get it out of my damn hands. It's not like I was happy with everything yet. But I had to pass it over. I mean come on. 300 pages. It's a big stack. I'm so inside of that world I can hardly see out. I need to come up for air.

As you can see, I'm playing with a multi-media, drawn/digital, Viewmaster style for the illustrations. It will not be color, sadly. But I still plan on using foreground, midground, and background. Yet another holdover from my origins in film school. Well, hell. I didn't originate in film school. I was scribbling and writing long before that. But you know what I'm saying. Shows influence. But what it really shows influence of is the Viewmaster. Because that was one more diorama I used to peer into as a child and be absolutely entranced by. I loved the half-lit world that never moved, but had blurry backgrounds, and dire, dramatic colors. Those private, shadowy, not-real/real world...I remember spider man and snoopy, and all of it seemed so fantastic. I don't expect anyone else to know what I mean here, or to see what I see. It's just a name I use to describe it to myself. I don't really think it literally looks like a viewmaster.

Anyway, yeah. I thought it would be original (I haven't really seen the style in any books I've read, at least), and really allow me to bring forth the dreamy, dark feel of the books well. I look forward to the art part of this book. I look forward to taking a break from the story, and seeing how it works on other people. And I look forward to bed. It's almost 22:00, and I've been going since about 05:45.

'Night.

December 19, 2005

Two Years of Joyful Swervitude (114 of 283)

I THINK MY PLAN WILL BE to get the chapters firmed (as early and as much as possible), meaning the book will be edited and jigged and jagged into place for little while, but I do hope to know what illustration I am doing for each chapter...which will depend on what the chapter is about. Thus, my desire to know sooner than later what the chapters are.

Actually, this won't be an issue. I keep thinking that the book must be rushed out, but I just remembered that I had a conversation with the publishing director today who gave me a feel for the schedule of the books. Looks like the first three of the fiction series will pub in late 2007, so I'm not sure exactly when that means I'll have to be finished, but even though it's not really a ton of time, it spaces out the non-fiction much more realistically. And gives me a nice definite time for the other ones. Two years. That gives me two years to write and illustrate three of these 200pp+ books. What a journey this will be! Talking about spending a long time "in character." How exciting! I feel like Bilbo packing seed-loaves into his knapsack, as he prepares for the road.

An exciting part of this is that this really means I can go back and add to the first book, even while I finish the third. Which insures a lot of continuity and accurate foreshadowing and a super strong connection between the three installments. And then by the fourth, I'll know the characters and stories and settings so well, I won't need to go back and touch up anything. It will be well set down and in motion, by then.

Although it sort of hurts to think of them not seeing daylight for so very long. Who knows, though. What little bit I know about publishing has taught me that these things can change from month to month. But Karen was speaking of having reliable deadlines, so perhaps these will hold. Time will tell.

I The first non-fiction book Horris' Scary Guide to Ancient Egypt will be published Nov of 2006. So I will get to work on that soon. But this does ease things up a tiny bit, and I'm happy about that. The more I think about it, the happier I am. The publisher is an ambitious man, and I get carried away sometimes in ideafests right along with him. This can happen easily. I tend to aim high when I estimate what I can produce. I mean, I can write consisently, and I think I can put out a fair amount of material. I hope going back, even, in this journal, will back that up. But I aim even higher than I can meet, sometimes. And that's good; it's good to reach high, I feel. But the more I think about her reshuffling of the dates, the more I am relieved. It would make me so much happier to do these books right, and by right I mean to to really saturate them with attention. Perhaps I could bang them out quicker, but I do believe in putting down your mark thoughtfully and deliberately and artfully, if you put it down at all. Books have too long a (snortle) shelf-life to rush. And often, it is the little embellishments and details you draw in at the end, on the 111th pass that really bring out the shape of your imagined reality successfully. I am very relieved to have more time. I suddenly realize I was just putting the best face on a horribly tight (perhaps impossible) schedule.

Especially because art is different than writing in a few ways. Sometimes an image will get stuck coming through the door from your mind to your paper, and no matter how many times you erase (and you have a finite amount of times you can try again, here, on actual paper), you can't get it right. Feeling pressured in those moments has not proven conducive to my being productive in those types of situations. Actually, to be honest, while that is true, the same is true for writing. Sometimes it really closes you down to be too pressed for time. But mostly, it all comes down to that choatic sapphire molecule of delight and unpredictability, the will 'o the muse. I can't complain. I rarely, if ever feel dry. I have no methodology, as Piers Anthony does (using his "block" itself to further the narrative, thus eliminating the concept of a "block"), I just always seem to have something bubbling from my noggin (what a yummy image!).

IN addition to the one-per-chapter full page spreads I wanted to do, I also wanted to make illustrations on the computer for each large dropcap at the start of each chapter. And that is another 29 illos or so. Granted, they won't be as intricate as the full-page illo for each chapter. And they will be shrunk down a lot. But it's still a lot of illustration. Now you begin to see how perhaps I bite off more than I can chew once in a while. But I must say, most of the time, I make it, and am quite proud of my results. So I doubt I'll stop driving myself so hard now. It's joy, is what it is. This is what makes me happy to do. And trying harder only makes me happier. (To a point!)

Anyway, looks like I have the next couple years work cut out for me. And I look forward to all of it. I sure hope I can find time in there to finish my album, and to develop my weaponhead character. Although I wonder if he might not just show up on K'Nisqa.... Hmm.

As I edit this first novel (second book), I feel I am making three steps forward and two steps back. Which I literally am. Sometimes I move three pages forward in the manuscript, but write two pages onto its length. Right now I have edited up to page 114, and its length stands at 283. I guess overall, that is good. Yesterday I had edited up to page 80, and the book had 280 pages. So I moved forward 34 pages, and added three. That's fine, yeah. That's excellent. It was only yesterday, where I had to develop a part of the story, that got me a little worried. I had added a lot of pages.

Anyway, I am reaching that point where I feel so drained that I might float away. Began at 05:30 today, it is now almost 18:00. I look forward to tomorrow's work. Although I ended at a part where it is getting a little tricky. I think I have to strike a page and just rewrite a part entirely. As I reread (note to self "quartz/frontyard/scienceproject/mona/stairs"), I realize I don't like this little part at all. Won't work. Tear down, build back up. Just like those troublesome parts of an illustration.

You feel a moment of hesitation as you reach for the eraser. Can it stand? Does it really stick out? But you know, even as you think (but would never say aloud) "I hate to destroy something beautiful," that if you let it stand, it would haunt you. Even if nobody else noticed, you would see nothing else when you looked at the drawing. And if it were a written scene, you would think of nothing else, no matter who you met at the signing, or what kind of wine was served at the bookstore's next holiday party. The book might even be brilliant, but to you it would be the book that hid at its core, a hollow scene. There was a slip of the hand, sure, but you also turned your head. And we can be so very hard on ourselves, can't we?

The hesitation isn't long. You wipe it clean and do it again. And again, if you have to. You do it until you can't see that it's something you've made anymore. You rest once it convinces you that it is real, until the seam disappears.

Well, then. Here's to that. Until the seam disappears, Katy. And please remember to burn all my letters.

Your friend and confidant,

December 18, 2005

89 of 280

This Icon is Art by Mark Ryden "TIRED AT 14:30?" you ask me and I nod my head vigorously (but not too vigorously, for that's how tired I am) as if to say Hell yeah, but I hope it counts for something that I've been writing since 05:40 or so. That is over 8 hours. Eh, anyway. Nothing is more tiring than justifying oneself.

So now I'm on page 89 of 280. Did I say "two or three" edits on my own before I handed it in to my editor? Yeah....well. I'm gonna reel that decision right back in. One time through this bad boy is good enough for this go-round. Now after she gets her hands on it, I'll hit it again, I'm sure. But this is no small matter. You can work hard for hours—like eight hours with no break except what is humanly necessary—look up, and still see 200 pages in front of you. There's no breezing through that a few times in a week. Especially if you are thinking hard and working hard.

A lot getting fixed, smoothed out, connected, reinforced. I love this edit. I love the first one. So important. Hugely important. If I ever died before making my first edit on a book, I'm not sure if I would want people to even read the first draft. As I think I mentioned a post or two ago, I make that many changes one time through.

Anyway, I am pretty tired. I didn't even think I could type all this. Taking a break for now. My goal is to finish this edit by Wednesday. I really don't want to push it any longer on this time through.

I feel good about the story. I'm excited with every stage of the process. A good place to be.

December 13, 2005

First pass through Secret Vision

Long day. Edited/rewrote 35 pages. Thing is, now the manuscript is at 269 pages. I have a feeling this thing is going to grow a little by the time I'm done. Tired. But making many changes, and many good ones, I think. The first edit is so comforting, because that's where many lazy choices or "placeholders" for ideas are replaced with more thought-out, original, fleshed-out ideas and characters. I feel the book is already making a big jump up in coherence, as well as originality, and pacing. So much more to go. Early on it, tomorrow.

Danger ahead. Life threatening to get in the way of my writing again. May have a day or two ahead where I'll need to leave the book alone. Big things. Back on it next day. Will report, first collapse, gracias.

December 10, 2005

Done with first draft of Book One

AND THAT'S IT, he said, pouring himself a tall one. Page 258, and we can type -THE END-. Damn. What a journey.

It's odd. At first, I was waiting to feel elated, and I realized I felt the same way I do as a reader, when I come to the end of a 250 page book. I felt sad, or a bit let down...I didn't want to let go of the world. I didn't want the story to be over. And I hope that's good! I do think it has a lot of editing that needs to happen. And I very much look forward to reading it over and doing my first couple edits. For me, a lot happens in the edit. A lot of very beautiful fine-tuning. And by "fine tuning" I don't mean adjusting the colors of clothing. I mean sewing together loose ends that go from being senseless threads to perfectly-synchronized events that feel as if they have been planned from the start. So the leaps and bounds that my stories can travel between first draft and third are notable. I do look forward to the manuscript's future iterations.

Please do not let that overshadow the joy I feel in finishing at all! Wow. I can't believe it's done. That's the longest piece I've ever written in my life. And quite a haul. I very much look forward to beginning the illustrations. Of course, at the same time, I must begin the research for for the second book in the non-fiction series. I have a bit of a busy schedule until at least February, although to be more realistic, until May, I think.

Okay. time to rest for a day. No work on Sunday, imagine that. That's right. Sunday is for video games, and then off to see the Narnia film. I have high expectations, so they better not let me down! Don't even mess with Narnia unless you are prepared to deliver. Those are the Greats.

Then, Monday, back on the book. First edit. Until then, goodnight.

December 9, 2005

The Woods Before the Meadow, page 242

GOOD NEWS, had an exchange with my editor, who has given me an extra week. Yes, that means I don't have to hand over the manuscript until Monday the 19th. I do not plan, actually, on having it that long. But it is good to have the pressure lifted. Very good.

I just ended a chapter on page 242. And unless I'm mistaken, I have one chapter to go. So I guess this draft of the manuscript will end right around page 250. We'll see. I made good headway today, so I feel like I should have more time to write today, that it's still early. It's 15:17. Yet, I can't push myself anymore. I've been going since before 06:00, at a good rate. I tried to keep going, because I want badly to finish, but realized immediately I was suffering from Acute Mojo Depletion. So tomorrow I begin again, before the dawn. And perhaps I shall finish the first draft of my first novel on such a notable and magnificent Saturday.

And then, of course, many edits. And many illustrations!

K'Nisqan Rule and a Spelled Band of Onyx

BACK ON THE STORY at 05:44. Moving at a good clip. Editor (Gail) gave me the weekend, so I feel much better. I think I can finish tomorrow. I think that may not be overly-optimistic. But I need to make two passes, at least. And I think I can barely squeeze that in before Monday evening. I'll do my best. Don't know. I sometimes aim too high, think I can pull off a bit more than I can. Which I do not regret. This allows me to achieve a lot even when I fall short. But as far as accuracy on this prediction, I don't know. It's less a tool of prophesy than it is a prod or trick to make myself more productive.

Some good stuff unfolding. Some description I felt was lacking. Some scenes that are just fantastico in their imagery and fulfilment of the narrative promise given earlier on. Also some very good crystal-ballery using Eli's ---------. Which I didn't see coming, but then suddenly, there it is. And then I was like "Oh, now I know why I included that item in his room."

I love how you write hints in and don't know what they are for yet, you are sort of like "I know I made a point of mentioning that item, but I don't really know why," and 100 pages later you understand—all in a flash as you write a different scene—why you dropped that matchbook behind the picture frame (or that donut into a rabbit hole, or that suspicion into a passerby's mind). I love those moments. Anyway, some good foreshadowing of environment and narrative throughline of Book 2 in one of final scenes. Getting closer to the vortex, the pull grows stronger. Now on the read-through, I'll have to even out some of that energy, make sure it makes ripples in the beginning, make sure we can smell the ocean even from the highest floor of the fanciest hotel.

Page 226. Gotta get back to it, now. These are my favorite hours of writing: before the dawn, dawn, early dawn.

December 8, 2005

Lullaby Mine

THE LIVING ROOM IS DIM, gauzy blue light filtering down through my tall windows and into the warm space, which is lit by many christmas lights. I've had the christmas lights on (and little red globes) for a week or so. I've always liked them, always liked multiple dim light sources, light bounced always, never directly shining on you. Bounced or filtered by orange cloth, red glass, vanilla wall. It makes for a warm, happy feel when you step out into the living room at 0530 or so. Or anytime, actually. Which is why I like it.

We also have a small pine tree, now. Herm brought one home, it's about the size of a six year old boy. So I call it "Fundevogel." Actually that's not true. But I did make it stand in the corner. (Okay, that's not true either.) Candy canes hang from the branches, and it has a few stars on it, too. It's a very nice living room. Too bad it's surrounded by suburbia. Which is also why I keep the blinds tilted so that only the sky can filter through, and sometimes very small slices of the neighborhood.

It is always the days I am raring to write the moment I get up—those are the days I have to go somewhere, run an errand, make an appointment. It never fails. I am on page 222, and moving swiftly toward the finale! I have many things to determine, many variations of the ending, many variables within it, though I mostly know how it will end.

I am just boiling over with ideas about Book 2. So much opportunity. Earth I want to keep sort of frozen in time, which I have. It exists without pop reference or allusion to anything more than classic fantasy and horror books, which I am absolutely littering the book with. (Aw, but that's such a fun part, plus I need to tip my hat to the masters, this is owed.) But K'Nisqa (the deadly orange/black/brown planet they must soon travel through) will be a metaphor for a thousand tiny dreams and hopes and fears, and for a dozen magical and spooky characters who will exist as little fables with a fable. It's all my way of saying A brand new planet! A whole world! Just waiting to be painted, unfolded, unfurled, uncovered!

Naturally, my influences in Fiction Fantasy are Tolkien, C.S.Lewis, LeGuin, L'Engle, Alexander. For sure, there are other writers who have affected me and may creep in—like Dosteovsky, Poe, Twain, Hesse, Heinlen, Bradbury, or people I am not thinking of. But those first few are unmistakeable. I don't try, there. That is built in, as true influence; as books I read over and over and over and over for ten, fifteen, twenty years. They are hardwired as influence as hardwired as you can get. Which is good. This means they can effortlessly shape the bedrock of my narrative (or at least provide a strong influence in shaping it), but not necessarily mimic the superficial elements, which I think can easily happen if you imitate, or consciously try to "make" your story something, or like something. In fact, much of my research involves thumbing through these books and making sure I am not copying anything without meaning to. I value my originality. But I cannot help the fact that I have been awed by certain stories. I want to set my sights high, here, and part of that means being original in these areas it can be so difficult. Allusion is great, is fun, is homage. But unconscious mimicry is not acceptable.

I want another feel to these books, as well. Not just the classic Fantasy quest. I love the Fairy Tale. And I love stories that resonate with that feel. That is why when you go to my site, you first get the boy with the broken crown (Remember Me? The One With the Broken Crown?), then you click through that, and you get a little fable. "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away..."

That is no accident. I find the Fairy Tale, or the Fable, intoxicating in shape and mood. And that is how this story starts, this book, and that is how it unwinds, how it will be drawn, and how it will end. Grandly, with much spiral and drama, and stark silhouettes of Good, Evil, of fate and destiny; with much beauty and horror and curses and conditions and little magic rules and magnificent, gothic, horrible endings for the villains. At least that is what I am trying for! I don't mean to say every scene is charged with action and suspense and resonant icons. Sometimes there are very simple human moments and conversations. But I strive for that magic, that world, that shape that I first met in the Fairy Tale.

So I am immersing myself in two other books, as well (these are the books I keep on my desk, by my lamp; these are the ones I opened last night, and to which I fell asleep). They are The Japanese Fairy Book, as compiled by Yei Theodora Ozaki, and Grimm's Fairy Tales, translated by E.V. Lucas, Lucy Crane, and Marian Edwardes. These are great, because they do not follow the typical, mauled-to-death, formulaic 3-act readily-resolved conflict scenario that our Hollywood stories are so often based on. The kind that does not challenge you at all, so you learn nothing from it, can speak the actors' lines for them, and only frustrates and insults you, should you try to earnestly engage it. You lower your expectations after enough of these "stories." You only hope to be adequately distracted by the special effects, which are often one of the main reasons the movie was even financed, or at least one of the main reasons you don't hate it, upon recollection.

NO, these fairy tales are weird. I like them, they are like Bradbury, with his odd short poem-like stories that flummoxed me so, as a youth, and later awed me, when I could understand their shape. Fairy tales are often Like poems, with dark and bright fragments and either horribly huge lessons to be learned (or ignored at your great peril), or just fleeting characters and moods that you cannot quickly pin onto a morality tale. Sometimes no discernable lesson at all (at least to me, probably a cultural gap in the Japanese fairy tales), and you sometimes wonder what was the point. Yet, you cannot shake the color of the setting or the well-drawn plight of the protagonist. One or the other, I am reading all of them. I want to draw deeply for them, especially to populate the world of K'Nisqa.

(No—I say to those who need to ask. I'm sure there is much fun and depth and adventure in some of the current Fantasy literature. But I have neither thoroughly read, nor do I reference any of the Harry Potter, or Lemony Snicket books. I was not raised on them. That would be mimicry, were I to shadow them in any way, and I would not do my own talent such a disservice. I did pick one of each up to look it over, and I simply don't think my own reading material allows for too much of those books. As with my music, I prefer to be influenced by the Masters, and a writer needs time and history and widespread absorption and analysis before they can be pronounced a Master by the reading world. I do not consider these writers Masters, though they be hugely financially successful. To me, the work tastes like sugary popcorn. And I like my snacks with a little more grit. Don't mean to push my personal opinion—others are free to feel however they like...but for my part and my own writing, I say let's leave today's children to be hugely moved by these new authors. Perhaps one day they shall write books that are flavored by their widely-available and very popular works. Me, I am stuck being influenced by the Literary Gods of my own younger days....)

Shapes of lessons, archetypes, morals, stories...these will never change. In a way, when you tell stories, when you write a book, you are only reskinning old fables. If you are telling an important tale, you can rest assured it has been told before. No matter how much time goes on. But the important part is that these stories and lessons must come through the writer's own experience, and his/her own interpretation. You must be the New Skin for an Old Shape. And I feel I am doing that. The book is very dark. But I love it. Don't know how my editor will feel. But it feels magical to me. Urgent, ancient, spooky. Little brilliantly-shining moments of hope or magic swirling about the heads and hands of often crippled, sweet characters in an ocean of danger. Always a winding road. Always a choice, though not always easy.

Like my own life!

December 7, 2005

K'Nisqan Armies, Mandarin Shell

On chapter 25. Page 222. I know, I know. I'm doing all I can. But I can't simply just slam the door on them all! I can't just cram the cover of the book shut, before there are covers. I have to let them all play out their parts. And even when I have my own ideas about what they should be doing, they don't always listen!

But dawn will break, soon. And then begins Eli and Nini's last trek, where they will meet the others in the meadow. And someone will be forced to make a difficult choice.

See you there....

The Illustrated Boy

I HAVE BEEN THINKING about how I want to illustrate the fiction books starring Horris. I think the non-fiction books (Horris' SCARY Guide to Egypt, Horris' SCARY Guide to Dinosaurs, etc) will continue in the cartoony, digital style that I illustrated SCARY: A Book of Horrible Things for Kids in. That will be one thing that separates the two lines of books. For I do feel I need something to keep them separate, having the same main character, and all.

The covers and spines are really up to the publishing company. But I wonder if Hylas will go for keeping the spines of the non-fic books red, and perhaps going with green for the fiction. That would be another good way to keep the two lines distinctive. Additionally, fiction fantasy just demands illustrations of the hand-drawn type, I feel. At least a novel ought to have as much.

Nini, on the cover of the manuscript for Horris, Little Eli, and the Secret Vision. On the actual cover, Eli and Horris will appear. Here, I drew Nini (and a bit of Horris) because the chapter I was currently writing was telling Nini's story.

I decided that I will use pencil to illustrate the fiction books, or at least the first one. Aside from painting the final cover with my airbrush. There is something very magical about pencil art, and the multitude of gradients and densities you can employ with just a turn of the wrist, a flutter of the hand.

And as I drew the image above (to help inspire myself as I wrote further, I just needed a different image on the top of the manuscript), I realized how much I missed hand-drawing. I've been using the computer to render my art, and while it is a lot of fun, and while you still need to understand form and light to create on it, there is nothing like your hand moving the pen or pencil or brush.

So much less interface. The more I have to negotiate the medium, the less readily I can flow. Same with when I'm recording music. To paraphrase the American mainstream media, when the wires start becoming the song, then it is time to change something. Well, using the computer for art brings some advantages (the "Undo" feature springs immediately to mind), but it sure makes the tool obtrusive. I dislike having to translate to my tool what my brain knows instinctively. Even if it only slows me one tenth of a second or causes me one extra movement. It's not that I don't believe in the investiture of energy. I hope that shows. I think of it more that I want strong, clear sound coming out of my speakers. The very strongest and the clearest I am able to manage. And every single splice in every single wire compromises that power and clarity, even if only by miniscule amounts. (At the same time, I must allow for that bit of translation and area of the learning curve that is inherent in the execution of every craft, and part of every struggle to master one's craft. Sometimes there is struggle, and discomfort, and there should be.)

As I moved the pencil I thought to myself how nice it was to want less pressure on the stroke and simply apply less pressure. To not have to reach up and smack the keys over and over to make it happen. How nice to simply move my hand, to slow down, to press harder. No need to adjust opacity slider. Such minimal conversation between my brain and the machine helping me make my art. For I am a tool I know so well. The hand turns, glides, backs up, repeats a see-saw motion 18 times rapidly, and then lightly traces a spiral forward and back. The brush size is adjusted by leaning my pencil, or at worst, shaving pieces off of the tip with an ex-acto knife, but still, how nice—to watch the shavings fall, to touch the tip of the pencil to test it. To inwardly adjust the sensitivity of the pencil pressure in such tiny increments you wouldn't be able to see them on your LCD screen to attempt them.

And mostly, how sweet it is to just visualize something on the page and skirt my hand over to to that area, speedily and surely, to rest the heel of my hand, slowly lower the point, and begin to sketch an arc—all without hesitation nor deliberation. How satisfying to shade where I like, to erase just where I like, to move around in space and ask no permission from a digital kinetic arbiter.

And, I think, these illustrations will have to serve to answer my belly everytime my Mac teases me because people think the art I make digitally somehow doesn't still need to be drawn. I caught my G5 dialing into the local paper's offices yesterday, demanding equal billing. Trying to tell the reporters that I have a "SCARY" button on my computer that I just press to come up with new Horris expressions and positions and story ideas. Clearly, I have to put an end to this kind of speculation. And maybe I should dust off the old Olivetti, while I'm at it.

December 6, 2005

A Sapphire Sun in the Crawl Space.

On page 212. Wasps dropping like pebbles onto the leaves. Made it past the last visit to Iago's house. (Unless, of course, that changes. The book has yet to head down that treacherous road o' Editing. I jest, of course. That is a road I very much look forward to. I have so much scribbled on notes (digital and paper notes) that I am pretty fuzzy on who knows what, or what I have foreshadowed enough, etc. There is a bunch of tweaking, polishing, and smoothing out to be done. It will be very gratifying.)

But anyway, yeah. Winter coming on makes me think of Ben Folds Five, or something. The piano notes in the beginning of Brick feel like Winter to me. Certain Neil Young songs do that to me, as well. I can almost feel the frost in my nose hearing them.

Feeling that weary, satisfied feeling from moving forward a good chunk, getting some hard work done. I remember when I used to come home and feel that entire-body exhaustion from roofing all day. I feel mostly emotionally weary right now. But I feel energized, too. I stop working because my mind stops being useful when it gets too tired, not because I want to stop working. I just want to get these guys to the final scene! I'm impatient! No, not really. Just sort of excited to feel it all building up.

Been up working since 05:00. It feels good, still. To be worn out, to have worked hard.

I was talking to Herm about how I map out some parts, but then stop pushing the thinking-out part, because there is a certain point I feel it would be pushing too hard. So I'll leave that part unknown, I'll leave that part for intuition and spontaneous invention. As I push forward and actualize the area that I already thought out broadly, tendrils of story continue to creep forward. You begin to piece together parts or motivations appear for ideas you already had and needed to justify. It's a magical part, I feel. The magical part. This knowledge that races ahead of your fingers is like a thaw, like veins of spring thaw that run, jagged and greening, across the blankets of snow, water tumbling. (Conversely, one could say it is also like a fast-moving freeze, a blanket of frost splinters that leap across the fabric of the earth, knifing into each other, sticking fibrous roots into each other, building horizontal castles of Winter into the soil.)

I now know how it will all end. (And how often can one say that?) I finally worked it out, or it worked itself out while I wasn't paying attention, who can say. But that feels good. I didn't stress too much, because of how antithetical to creative mobility I find stress, and also because this is hardly the first time I've been through the creative process before. I knew it would work out, and I knew how it would work out. I still had to wait to get there. I breathe a deep sigh,though. Now it's just writing it out, pacing it right, finding the how. And not much more, at that. I'm very close, now. (But I keep saying that, don't I?)

Man, am I tired. Time to veg for a bit. Pop some DVDs of Scrubs on, maybe. Dig some real writing. "The Classics," as they say.

December 1, 2005

Book Signing for SCARY: A Book of Horrible Things for Kids, NYC - Dec 1, 2005

I WILL BE AT MANHATTAN'S Manhattan's Books of Wonder (fabulous independent bookstore) speaking and signing, along with a few other authors. If you are in the area, please stop in!

Meanwhile, I just left off on page 195 of the new book. It's going well. I had to leave it at only seven pages for the day. But at least I managed to squeeze those in. I do wish I could just keep writing! (A lot of fun, scary, exciting things are happening, now. We are at the very end. Or at least I think so!) But going out and talking about the book is important too.

I was given another week, so the manuscript is due next friday.

Okay, I'm out. Maybe I'll see you in a few hours.

November 30, 2005

Five Gallon Heart, Ten Gallon Greed

PAGE 188, though it took me a while. too tired to even write any more.

very close to climax of story. and then time to edit. edit, edit, edit.

'night.

November 29, 2005

Melody and Elegy (Nini Stays Home Sick)

DREW OUT SOME MORE of Eli's neighborhood, by hand. Still thinking about what styles I want to try out for the illos. This map is just so I can write accurately from a map. Although i hope to do a version for the endpaper, like the Hobbit books and other such books with maps. Eager to start on painting the cover. The cover I have online is temporary and I think may yet still replace it with another Temp cover, as it is. I whipped that one together pretty quickly, so they could take a temp cover to Frankfurt Book Fair.

On page 178. I still see another forty or fifty pages, if I'm not wrong. We'll see. Can't truncate the arc. Even if pages get cut, must first let the story be told to the length it wants. Definitely closing in. Few more days. Taking a lot of energy. A lot of hard concentrating. Becoming more and more of a task to hold it all in my head. Lots of notes tacked around, diagrams, drawings. footnotes, scribblings, Post-it notes. Searching for holes, trying to write them all full.

Skeleton starting to take place for second book. I'm diggin what I'm thinkin. connecting this quest to that one, one leads into the other. one made necessary by fraying ends of first one. Huge opportunity for other world, rules, geography, laws, physics, race....visuals, traps, treasures, tricks, tests. A trek through the metaphorical den of Smaug. city as lair, i see hot orange, brown, black for colors. fast, whirring, dangerous movement through the air. big red sun. we'll see. my mind painting pieces in the background. we're still in book one, and i haven't even brought them to the meadow, yet, where it all ends. almost.

Early day tomorrow. Would like to make it to, at least, page 190.

Goodnight.

November 28, 2005

You Know Me. I'm a Denizen of the House of Five Trees

EXHAUSTED. I mean....wow. These days get longer and longer and I love it. I love working like this. On my own steam, up early, driving hard, rest when I need to. Began pretty early, don't know when. 0530? 0600? Just finishing up now. It's 1930. EXHAUSTED. Seriously, i feel sedated, I'm so wiped out. As soon as I printed out today's pages, I felt this exhaustion just flood me. I must have been keeping it at bay until I was done.

Wrote two chapters today. Which worked out to be 14 pages, I think. Went back through, too, added some things. Don't really even want to hint at what's being written. It's too much in flux, I"m juggling. Has to all fall in place just right. But not the first time, must remember that. I can move stuff around, if need be. But anyway. Trying to talk myself out of being obsessive in my drive to create the perfect work is just like trying to actually create the perfect work. Never gonna happen, but you can hardly help yourself from trying. Am I making sense anymore? I think not a bit.

Now I'm at the point where I get up as soon as my eyes open (before dawn), and push until I am no longer able to think, literally. Which is right about now. It feels good. Sometimes the only way to transcend yourself is to shove your comfort out the door, and yourself right outside of your boundaries. Put your dream in overdrive.

Herm bought me a foldy-box to keep the manuscript in. Bad boy is at 168 pages, just text.

Looking forward to what tomorrow brings.

November 27, 2005

Chapter 16: The Disappointed Boy of Steel

WELL, I WROTE NICE AND LONG yesterday (Saturday), and today (Sunday). I'm on page 154, and I think I wrote about 15 pages today (I know that doesn't add up from last time...and that's odd, because I added a chapter in the middle, too. I wonder if I don't cut a lot, when I go through. My usual method is to read through my last chapter, correct tenses, transitions, typos, fine tune a little. Anyway, 13-15 pages, one way or another). We're well into denouement by now, and as in editing for film, I am cutting the scenes/chapters shorter to reflect the quickening pace. Its more or less intuitive, anyway, as I see it.

Yet, ironically, I feel the need to slow down right at this moment, to insure I weave it together in the proper order. There are a number of events mapped out roughly...in my mind and on paper. I know how it all has to end, I know what has to happen along the way, yet I'm unsure on the order of a few things. So I need to break for the day (even 13 pages is a good amount) and print out the book. I need to reread it, all in order, and feel where it needs to go next.

My excitement grows. I feel the book is turning out even better than I had hoped. The ghost arm writes all my best lines, and it has an instinct that guides this story into the most wonderful of places. The book is writing its end longer than I thought it might, though. I am going with it; I am trusting the story to unspool the way it needs to. I feel I was wrong, and I simply wasn't as close to the end as I thought. Everything must unfold in its time. If you hop where you should stride, the reader will not feel they belong in the new spot. And they will no longer believe you. And if that happens, all is lost. We will not allow that. Anyway, fine tuning to come later. Editing will come later. I know there will need to be a good amount of finessing to bring the book up to its highest potential, but now that's hardly my worry.

In fact, I have no worry. Just a anxiety/patience/excitement that continues to fuel the telling of a tale that surprises me with its insistence.

Boy, am I tired.

November 26, 2005

A Big, Spiral Driveway Like the Skin of an Onion

Yeah, back in the groove. Now on page 141, and still moving strong. I plan to work tomorrow, of course. I'm pretty much on the 7 days a week mode, now. I love a deadline I can see coming, and that I can work toward, being affected by only myself and my own drive. I get such a thrill out of rising at 5:30 or 5:45 with my OH MY GOD I'M BACK ON COFFEE yeah...hopeless sinner, that's me. The bean stole me back! Argh!

But you know what happened? i got up and sat at the computer to work on morning, after being up a little late. I was off coffee for a couple days, right? And here, I'm trying to take off and do my usual thing...and nothing'! And it wasn't that I was uninspired. I had a lot of ideas for the story. I just felt like there I was, and, you know, getting ready to go, and you know. There I was! Sippin' on hot water with a touch o' honey! ...And yeah, okay, yes. Somehow missing that pre-dawn zoom of initial ignition. O, woe is I! Alas, I ride the spicy, cracked Java bean down the very river Styx!

But yeah, I said If it ain't broke, don't fix it! and figured I would get off the bean when I'm done with the rough draft of this manuscript, and the high-octane lift isn't needed as much. As I'm moving into the atomic level of That Which Drives Act III, I find such drastic moves are simply ill-advised!

O, DEVILISH Java! O, GEORDANES, PURVEYOR OF EVIL! O, Colombian Supremo! How good it is to be back in the loving carob citadel of your deliciously deep-roasted aroma.

November 25, 2005

Post Turkey Day

Don't think I'll do much writing today. I tried, but my brain is just mush from all the eating and merry-making last night in celebration of dead turkeys everywhere. I found it very annoying this morning, at 5:45, when I couldn't get the wheels turning. Felt alien, this non-productivity. I resented not having my muse sitting, waiting, when I called for her. Fine!

I did spend an hour or two this morning, sitting in the sun and sketching out Karl's latest sculpture. Intricate steel piece that works on two levels, depending how close you get to it. First sign of the road that leads to the rest of the quest.

Thought a bit more and made notes on the Four-book arc, which I fill in more and more as I think of it. Sketched and made notes on the location of a particularly important mountain-peak-which-is-a-valley-at-the-same-time. Spent some time thinking about the next chapter, but I think I'm just tired, because I couldn't really make my brain click in that direction for too long. Think I need to rest and take it easy, keep the thoughts simmering on the back burner.

These days, I'm thinking on the book all the time. Even when I'm watching movies or reading books. There is a part of my mind always working on the story. It interrupts every now and then when it figures something out. Shouts for a pen.

November 24, 2005

Two Children Whisper Under the Fireflies

Hopped on the book early today, around 0600, and just finished a nice run. Corrected/smoothed out the last chapter, and wrote seven new pages. Now on page 129. Counting illustrations, frontmatter and backmatter, I really only have 50 pages to go. But again, I am writing to the story, not the page count. I am very excited about the story. it is good, good, very good! Very dark in parts, yet hopeful and magical throughout.

I am making a lot of effort to be original, which can be hard when so many stories have been written, so many evils, so many heroes, helpers, traps and treasures. And I am fighting like hell to live up to the masters, and the makers of my favorite worlds when I was a child. These were Tolkien, C.S.Lewis, Ursula K. Leguin, Lloyd Alexander, and Madeleine L'engle. The fantasy series by each author (L.O.T.R series; Chronicles of Narnia; The Earthsea Trilogy; Book of Three, Wrinkle In Time books) are my Gold standards. I don't presume to assume that this book approaches those Great works, but I am doing my best to make something I can be proud of.

But at a certain point (I repeat), something takes over and the story just runs on its own. Which is the most freeing part. I feel that is where I am now. The story is mapped out, the hard work is done; the backstory is done, the outline is done, Acts I and II are done, and we are well into denouement. Now it is all the telling of the story, and bringing to life the how of it. At this point, I feel I am just opening my hands and all the characters I have populated this world with are walking about on their own, no strings. They are running and planning and speaking and moving toward the inexorable climax of the story, heedless of the hands that brought them forth.

And I am laughing and watching over it all, grateful and thrilled.

November 23, 2005

Blues, Blacks, and Purples. Moonlight on the Shelf.

Even longer day today. The closer I get to my deadline, the closer I get to the end of the book, the more I pour it on. It seems right. It's only reflective of the pace of the narrative. And if writing is being multiple actors, then making this book is like being in character for weeks straight. So my life is beginning to reflect the needs of my story. And how could it be any other way?

Seriously, though (that's the "I Absolve Me" of introductory phrases), We are into Act III, and rolling. I see it happening right on time, though I may beg my editor for a few extra days to edit and connect things on a capillary level. Sometimes it's that one or two moments of fine detail work that can elevate a work enough to make it memorable.

And now, I know how it will end. I have everyone's arc scripted at this point. And I won't give anything away, but I ended up liking Iago's character more than I expected. Which I like. I like characters to have depth. Well, except some, who are delightful as the archetypes they must be. I really enjoyed all of them. A few are less well-drawn than others, but it is all conscious. you don't want the entire psychological map of every single player, scrawled out and wrapping around every single plot point. That would be indiscriminate, distracting, and offensive.

I have only 60 pages more to go, to meet my page count. Today I wrote 18. I'd say that's four more days, if I don't take a day off. Assuming certain hours and breaks for side development, rereads, physical requirements; judging productivity averaging past week's habits...but I will take a day off, as it's Thanksgiving, and family is coming over. But I hate to just break now....I'm deep in the mix. Must take advantage of unbroken concentration. Will write a few hours early tomorrow. Rah.

How I do love bringing a character to life. How I do love it when he or she outgrows my initial sketch, or inspiration, or reference. Takes off on his own, wakes me up, wanting to run. Shows me her eyes, even when I'm not looking. And how I do love the organic, serendipitous dance that creative energy does through the filters in my fingertips. How I do love when loose ends begin connecting in that kinetic, intuitive way...four pages forward, two problems heal together. Three pages more, that problem is now a perfect device to move the story where you want it to go. And one more fresh idea is born to help you travel there.

And all with a logic that seems wiser than you could have been at the moment. As if some part of you has been reading every single line in the book at once. But that's what I was talking about yesterday. That's the "subconscious" mind, or the intuitive mind, or the autopilot part that's trained, or that is indefinable Gift. Whatever it is, it works. I guess, what I'm saying over the course of many posts is how much I love those parts of my craft that I do not feel I consciously control. Ironic, that.

Happy day to you, whatever you are doing this day, and tomorrow. Regardless of dinner choice, it's one more day to feel grateful for the gifts I have and can give, and the life that I live, and the people who share this boat with me, whilst we ride.

'night.

November 22, 2005

Marred By A Heart

Very good day. Very good day for progress on the book. I think I'm rolling up on Act III as we speak. I can see it on the horizon.

A lot of fun stuff being written. Just wrote out the four Spells of Seasons, which are spoken in a mix of English (Eli's native tongue) and another language. I'm not sure what the other language is, but I have the spells written. They're fun to say, and sound as if they should conjure up something...so better be careful with them. I won't write them here. I really don't want to give away anything to specific here. But herm reads through the book as I write it, and she is very engaged. That's a good sign.

Closing in. Wrote about fifteen pages today. I think I have about 80 to go, give or take. And then I have to give it at least three edits myself, before I pass it on to my editor. Then I'm on to illustrations.

Yeah, at least three.

November 21, 2005

A Glassy Onyx Eye and Two Wings That Unfurl

Well, I met my quota today, but it was a long, long day. Started at about 0600, and it's 2037, now, and I am finally printing out hard copy now. The story is getting pretty long and involved, and I've got to start a new system soon to keep track of everything that is going on. Flow charts and such.

Did an initial illo of Nini. Good starting point. I like her. I like Eli, too. Hell, I like all of them. Even Mister Zee, and Rusty and Grime Nose.

I truly love when the story surprises you. You do rough outline work, planning. You need to know what is supposed to happen and when, more or less. Nothing fixed, but you have to have guides for your free-fall. But then, after a certain point it is time to let go of planning and structure and steps. Sooner or later the time comes to let go of the ropes and just fly. And the fun parts come during those little moments of inspiration. When your fingers are just moving and moving and your eyes are burning, and you are staring right through the white of the page and into the sun of another world. It's those unplanned moments, it's all really about those unplanned moments. Those perfect little transitions or metaphors or tying up of loose ends that you hadn't even seen coming. Those bursts of creativity and invention that provide for those Perfect Lines, or those Perfect Endings, or that Perfect Twist. That part of your craft, of your mind that circles around back while you're untying the horses. How I do love that part. That is the gift. That part is the uncontrolled. That part is the part that knows what I cannot, and without which I would have no talent at all, just a restless mind and hand and heart and eye...and no way to find satisfaction.

November 18, 2005

Secret Museum

Today was a good day. I felt bad about falling behind my quota yesterday, so I really worked hard today and caught myself back up. Wednesday I wrote nothing but backstory. About 20 pages of it. Yet, the story stayed at its page count. I didn't let that bother me, because that backstory was very, very, necessary.

Thursday (yesterday) I wrote five more pages of backstory, and five of the actual book. My self-appointed quota is ten pages a day toward final page count. If I fall a page or two short on a given day, fine. But ten pages is what I would like to do each day.

Because Thursday I only wrote five pages toward my final page count, I wrote 15 today. So it's been quite a day. But I am very happy about getting through chapters 7 and 8. They were very important chapters. And now I've set things up to move forward for a while, before I have to slow down and do some handiwork to connect areas or develop the next turning point. I think tomorrow I'll work on a rough sketch of what happens in each chapter. Very rough. Usually I stop at the start of each chapter and think out what needs to happen and how, looking back at what was promised by Act I, and what needs to happen by the end of Act III. I have yet to do a rough of each chapter all at once. But since I'm approaching the halfway mark, I think I want to do that.

A Girl So Beautiful She Sits Alone Every Day

Made some headway on the story, yesterday, but also spent the first half of the day continuing to round out backstory. It had to happen, as I have reached a point in the story where one major character meets another, and the Evil is explained (not in full, but in riddles, more or less). So I had to know both what was conveyed, as well as what was not. That required a trip into backstoryville. But I think I have that covered now, so I move forward again.

In other news, the cable company sent me a notice that I had now already gone through my one-year "introductory price", and now my monthly billing would increase by about ten dollars a month. I called them up promptly and told them if that was the case, they could cancel my cable TV, i don't really need it. They opted to let me continue at the "introductory" or "for those who will complain" rate. Surprising. I told them in that case, they could continue giving me service. But, as Señor Colbert says: You're on notice!

I'm off coffee today. I've spent my few days on decaf, after the week-long half-and-half experiment. Today is chamomile and honey. Sugar is the white devil. YOU WILL NOT HAVE MY SOUL, OH WICKED CANE!